We return to the fortunes of the Prince.
The opening of 1755 found Charles still in concealment, probably at Basle. He could only profess to James his determination ‘never to go astray from honour and duty’ (March 12, 1755). James pertinently replied, ‘Do you rightly understand the extensive sense of honour and duty?’ War clouds were gathering. France and England were at issue in America, Africa, and India. Braddock’s disaster occurred; he was defeated and slain by an Indian ambush. Both nations were preparing for strife; the occasion seemed good for fishing in troubled waters. D’Argenson notes that it is a fair opportunity to make use of Charles. Now we scrape acquaintance with a new spy, Oliver Macallester, an Irish Jacobite adventurer. [286] Macallester, after a long prelude, tells us that his ‘private affairs’ brought him to Dunkirk in 1755. On returning to London he was apprehended at Sheerness, an ungrateful caitiff having laid information to the effect that our injured hero ‘had some connection with the Ministers of the French Court, or was upon some dangerous enterprize.’ He was examined at the Secretary of State’s Office (Lord Holland’s), was released, and returned to Dunkirk, uncompensated for all this disturbance. Here he abode, on his private business, living much in the company of the ranting Lord Clancarty. Lord Clare (Comte de Thomond, of the House of Macnamara) was also in Dunkirk at the time, and attached himself to the engaging Macallester, whom he invited to Paris. Our fleet was then unofficially harassing that of France in America.
Meanwhile, France negotiated the secret treaty with Austria, while Frederick joined hands with England. Dunkirk began to wear a very warlike aspect, in despite of treaties which bound France to keep it dismantled. ‘Je savais que nous avions triché avec les Anglais,’ says d’Argenson. The fortifications were being secretly reconstructed. D’Argenson adds that now is the moment to give an asylum to the wandering Prince Charles. ‘The Duchesse d’Aiguillon, a great friend of the Prince, tells me that some days ago, while she was absent from her house at Ruel, an ill-dressed stranger came, and waited for her till five in the morning. Her servants recognised the Prince.’ [287]
The Duchesse d’Aiguillon, Walpole says (‘Letters,’ iv. 390), used to wear a miniature of Prince Charles in a bracelet. On the reverse was a head of Our Lord. People did not understand the connection, so Madame de Rochefort said, ‘The same motto serves for both, my kingdom is not of this world.’ But Charles had not been ‘ill-dressed’ in these old days!
As early as April 23, 1755, M. Ruvigny de Cosne, from Paris, wrote to Sir Thomas Robinson to the effect that Charles’s proposals to the French Court in case of war with England had been declined. An Abbé Carraccioli was being employed as a spy on the Prince. [288] Pickle also came into play. We offer a report of his information, given in London on April 23, 1755. He knew that Charles had been at Fontainebleau since preparations for war began, and describes his false nose and other disguises. Charles was acquainted with the Maréchal de Saxe, and may have got the notion of the nose from that warrior.
Here follows Pickle, as condensed by Mr. Roberts:
Add. 32,854. ‘April 24, 1755.
‘Mr. Roberts had a meeting last night with the Scotch gentleman, called Pickle. The Young Pretender, he says, has an admirable Genius for skulking, and is provided with so many disguises, that it is not so much to be wondered at, that he has hitherto escaped unobserved, sometimes he wears a long false hose, which they call “Nez à la Saxe,” because Marshal Saxe used to give such to his Spies, whom he employed. At other times he blackens his eye brows and beard, and wears a black wig, by which alteration his most intimate Acquaintance could scarce know him: and in these dresses he has mixed often in the companies of English Gentlemen travelling thro’ Flanders, without being suspected.
‘Pickle promises to discover whatever shall come to his knowledge, that may be worth knowing, he can be most serviceable, he says, by residing in Scotland, for no applications can be made to any of the Jacobites there, from abroad, but he must receive early notice of them, being now, by his Father’s death, at the head of a great Clan of his name, but he is ready to cross the Sea, whenever it should be thought it worth the while to send him: which he himself is not otherwise desirous of doing, as he declares that those Journies have cost him hitherto double the money that he has received.
‘He hopes to have something given him to make up this deficiency, and, if he could have a fixed yearly Allowance, he will do everything that lies in his power to deserve it. He insists upon an inviolable secrecy, without which his opportunities of sending useful Intelligences will be lost.’
Pickle does not come on the public scene again for a whole year, except in the following undated report, where he speaks of Glengarry (himself) in the third person. His account of an envoy sent to make proposals to Charles, like those made to the Prince of Orange in 1688, is an error. Perhaps Pickle was not trusted. The envoy from Scotland to Charles only proposed, as we shall see, that he should forswear sack, and live cleanly and like a gentleman.
Add. 32,861.
‘Dear Sir,—I am hopeful you nor friends will take it ill, that I take the freedom to acquaint you, that my patience is quite worn out by hankering upon the same subject, for these years past, and still remaining in suspence without ever coming to a point.
‘I beg leave to assure you, that you may do it to others—but, let my inclinations be ever so strong, my intentions ever so upright, my situation will not allow me to remain longer upon this precarious footing; and, as I never heard from you in any manner of way, I might readily take umbrage at your long silence, and from thence naturally conclude it was intended to drop me. But, as I am not of a suspicious temper, and judge of others’ candour by my own, and that I always have the highest opinion of yours, and to convince you of mine, I shan’t hesitate to acquaint you, that I would have wrot sooner, but that I waited the result of a Gentilman’s journey, how at this present juncture has the eyes of this part of the Country fixt upon him—I mean, Glengary, into whose confidence I have greatly insinuated myself. This Gentilman is returnd home within these few days, from a great tour round several parts of the Highlands, and had concourse of people from several Clans to wait of him. But this you’ll hear from Military channels readly before mine, and what follows, take it as I was informed in the greatest confidence by this Gentilman.
‘This Country has been twice tampered with since I have been upon this utstation [Invergarry], and I find it was refer’d to Glengary, as the Clans thought he had a better motion of French policy, of which they seem to be greatly diffident. The offers being verbal, and the bearer being non of the greatest consequence, it was prorog’d; upon which the greatest anxiety has been since exprest to have Glengary t’other side, at a Conference, that he, in the name of the Clans, should demand his owne terms.
‘I am for certain inform’d that a Gentilman of distinction from England went over about two months ago with signatures, Credentials, and assurances, much of the same nature as that formerly sent to the Prince of Orange, only the number mentiond by this person did not amount above sixty. I know nothing of the Person’s names, but this from good authority I had for certain told me, and that they offer’d to advance a very considerable sum of mony. It was in consequence of this that proposals were made here. Prudence will not admitt of my enlarging further upon this subject, as I am at so great a distance, I must beg leave to drop it . . . ’
On May 20, 1755, James wrote to the Prince. He had heard of an interview between Charles and the Duc de Richelieu, ‘and that you had not been much pleased with your conversation with him.’ James greatly prefers a peaceful Restoration, but, in the event of war, would not decline foreign aid. The conduct of Charles, he complains, makes it impossible for him to treat with friendly Powers. He is left in the dark, and dare not stir for fear of making a false movement. [292a] On July 10, 1755, Ruvigny de Cosne is baffled by Charles’s secrecy, and is hunting for traces of Miss Walkinshaw. On July 23, 1755, Ruvigny de Cosne hears that Charles has been with Cluny in Paris. On August 16 he hears of Charles at Parma. Now Charles, on August 15, was really negotiating with his adherents, whose Memorial, written at his request, is in the Stuart Papers. [292b] They assure him that he is ‘eyed’ in his family. If he continues obstinate ‘it would but too much confirm the impudent and villainous aspersions of Mr. D’s’ (James Pawkins), which, it seems, had nearly killed Sir Charles Goring, Henry Goring’s brother, ‘with real grief.’ Dawkins had represented the Prince ‘as entirely abandoned to an irregular debauched life, even to excess, which brought his health, and even his life daily in danger,’ leaving him ‘in some degree devoid of reason,’ ‘obstinate,’ ‘ungrateful,’ ‘unforgiving and revengeful for the very smallest offence.’ In brief, Dawkins had described Charles as utterly impossible—‘all thoughts of him must be for ever laid aside’—and Dawkins backed his opinion by citing that of Henry Goring. The memorialists therefore adjure Charles to reform. Their candid document is signed ‘C.M.P.’ (obviously Cluny MacPherson) and ‘H.P.,’ probably Sir Hugh Paterson, Clementina Walkinshaw’s uncle.